


All Your Fault

by feverfooted



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Fluff, M/M, SnowBaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:03:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7919815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverfooted/pseuds/feverfooted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon and Baz get stuck on a ferris wheel together. What could go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Your Fault

“This is all your fault.”  
“Oh really?”  
“Yes.”  
“HOW COULD THIS POSSIBLY BE MY FAULT, BAZ?”  
“Bad things always happen when you’re around. Ask anybody.”  
“Oh, fuck off.”  
“Trust me, I would—if we weren’t STUCK ON A FUCKING FERRIS WHEEL.”  
They stare at each other, eyes narrowed to a near-squint. Simon can feel the distaste rolling off Baz in waves.   
They’re sitting across from each other in their compartment, so close that their knees bump together every time one of them attempts to change position. Wire fencing surrounds them, keeping them in.  
They’ve been here for nearly an hour, and Simon’s about to lose it.   
To be fair, Simon should have known that this was a mistake from the beginning. He was supposed to ride with Penny, but she had switched with Agatha at the last minute, leaving Simon to ride with whoever was next in line—which so happened to be Baz. At the time Baz had smirked, raising a single elegant eyebrow as if in a challenge, and Simon had stepped inside the compartment without a moment to spare. Simon Snow was not one to step away from a challenge, especially not one issued by Baz. But now he was regretting it big time.   
Baz is looking away from him, out through the wire fencing. He props his chin on his palm. Simon doesn’t think he’s ever seen him do that before. And that’s when he realizes that there’s a lot about Baz that he doesn’t know, despite rooming with him for six years.   
“What are you thinking about?” asks Simon suddenly.   
Baz glances over at him but doesn’t turn his head.   
“I’m thinking about how nice it would be to throw you out of this compartment,” he says tonelessly.   
“No, really,” insists Simon. He’s not sure why he’s asking, or why he wants to know. But they’re stuck here, and Simon figures he should use the situation to his advantage.   
Baz glances at him again, his gaze lingering a second or two longer than before.   
“Nothing,” he says.   
“You’re thinking about nothing,” repeats Simon. He gives a disbelieving laugh.   
Baz turns back toward him. “Yes, Snow,” he says. “Believe it or not, but some people can actually go more than a few seconds without thinking about—I don’t know…fucking sour cherry scones or whatever the hell goes on in that head of yours.”  
Simon feels his anger begin to prickle around his ears, but refuses to take the bait.   
“Baz, let me ask you another question.”  
“No.”  
“Why do you—”  
“Shut up—”  
“—Hate me?”  
Baz blinks. “What?”  
Simon crosses his arms. “Why do you hate me,” he says again.  
Baz shifts in his seat slightly. He looks like he wants to be anywhere else.   
“I don’t hate you,” he says finally.  
Simon doesn’t quite understand this answer. “Wait, you don’t?”   
Baz shakes his head.   
“Then why did you throw me down a flight of stairs?”  
“That was one time.”  
“Two times.”  
“You’re just…”  
“Yeah?”  
“Annoying.”  
Simon laughs again.   
“What about me is annoying?”  
Baz looks at him, really looks at him, and Simon resists the urge to shiver. He feels as if those gray eyes are pulling him apart.   
“Everything about you is annoying,” says Baz, with what sounds like resignation. He leans against the side of the compartment. There’s an odd look on his face.  
“I can’t be that annoying,” says Simon.   
Baz looks pained. “Trust me,” he says. “You are.”  
Silence stretches between them. The compartment sways gently.  
“I don’t hate you either,” says Simon, a little quieter this time. It’s his turn to look outward.   
Baz stays quiet, and Simon keeps talking.   
“You just…make me nervous. Because I can never tell what you’re thinking. And you always seemed to hate me so much.”  
“I make you nervous?” says Baz incredulously. “Says the fucking time bomb.”  
Simon laughs, actually laughs, and Baz joins in. For a moment everything feels a little lighter.   
“I never wanted to be your enemy,” says Simon.   
“Me neither,” says Baz, meeting his eyes. The stony gray has softened ever so slightly, but it’s still impossible to tell what he’s really feeling.  
“We should have had this talk before you threw me down that flight of stairs,” says Simon.   
“I probably still would have thrown you down a flight of stairs,” says Baz. “It’s oddly cathartic.”  
Simon rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

The ferris wheel starts up again shortly after. And as they leave the compartment, something has changed between them—something Simon couldn’t hope to put into words.  
Baz doesn’t hate me, he thinks as they part ways. It’s not much, but it’s a start.


End file.
